Jack Vettriano The Opening Gambit

Jack Vettriano The Opening GambitJack Vettriano The Model and the DrifterJack Vettriano The Missing Man
danced on tables for a living. You could put in a Z and a couple of Ns and an E, but it still looked like a name with extensions built on. It was as bad as Sara, a name that cried out for a prosthetic H.
Well, at least she could do something about the way she looked.
It was the robe. It, a Death wondered about what to wear.
'Hold on,' she said, to her reflection. 'Here . . . I can create things, can't I?'
She held out her hand and thought: cup. A cup appeared. It had a skull‑and‑bones pattern around the rim.
'Ah,' said Susan. 'I suppose a pattern of roses is out of the question? Probably not right for the ambience, I expect.'
She put the cup on the dressing table and tapped it. It went plink in a solid sort of way. might be traditional but . . . she wasn't. The alternative was her school uniform or one of her mother's pink creations. The baggy dress of the Quirm College for Young Ladies was a proud one and, in the mind of Miss Butts at least, proof against all the temptations of the flesh . . . but it lacked a certain panache as costume for the Ultimate Reality. And pink was not even to be thought of.For the first time in the history of the universe